


Make You Feel My Love

by Threadbare_Storyteller



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Severus Snape Lives, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16805770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threadbare_Storyteller/pseuds/Threadbare_Storyteller
Summary: The war that had ravaged the Wizarding World in Britain was finally over. Witches and wizards of every age are trying to grasp some semblance of normalcy after the losses of so many of their mentors, friends, and family. Hermione and the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio are returning to Hogwarts for their final, final year along with their surviving classmates, friends, and teachers. Among the surviving teachers is a certain Potion's Master that is turning out to be less roguish than Hermione could have imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy angsty slow-burn fanfics ;)  
> If you do, you've come to the right place.  
> Also, please don't hate me for not finishing my other fics, I'm working on them too!

Hermione Granger stood under the eaves of a small shop, seeking asylum from the seemingly ever-present London rain. She huffed in annoyance and reached her hand out from her shelter under the eave. It didn’t appear as if the storm was going to move on anytime soon. It was a gentle downpour, the sort that lasted ages. She silently cursed the rain (along with her lack of forward thinking) and withdrew her hand from the falling drops. She knew she should have brought an umbrella. It had rained nearly every day in the last two weeks, and according to the news her parents’ listened to in the mornings, it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

With a heavy sigh, she decided to leave the safety of her temporary shelter and head for a nearby shop she had recently made herself familiar with. She walked briskly, and arrived at the shop in record time. She thanked Merlin that the owner didn’t mind people loitering. She found out during a recent visit that he actually encouraged it. She would be able to wait until the rain subsided, or at the very least slowed to a drizzle.

A bell on the door chimed, signaling her entry as she walked into the store. The smell of patchouli instantly filled her nostrils. While it wasn’t the girl’s favorite scent, she no longer could say that she minded it. The purple-haired girl behind the counter offered her a warm “hello” that Hermione returned. She attempted to run her fingers through her rain-slicked curly hair, but it was no use. She knew she probably looked a proper mess. She intentionally avoided the mirrors and reflective display cases as she walked through the store.

Hermione had found the store quite by accident while she was sulking around London one day. She originally went in out of sheer curiosity, and never in a million years would she have expected herself to return a handful of times after her initial visit. It was a muggle “New Age” shop, and had everything a modern muggle witch or Wiccan, or whatever they were called, needed. There were shelves filled with tomes, texts, and how-to books. Crystals and various colored candles lined most surfaces. There were rows upon rows of tarot cards, pendulums, incense, oils, and jewelry for sale. The storefront only occupied half of the building. There was a sort of lounge in the back that gave folks an opportunity to converse or study texts quietly. Hermione knew her friends would tease her relentlessly if they knew that she enjoyed spending time in a muggle magick shop, so she dared not tell anyone.

She carefully plucked a purple book with gold lettering off of a shelf. She didn’t bother reading the title. She knew she was just going to plop down in a cozy chair and skim through the book until the rain subsided. It wasn’t as if any of these books held any real substance for a real witch like her, she just enjoyed reading. She felt more at home in this store than she did in a normal muggle library. She made her way back toward the lounge area. She was embarrassed to admit she had a certain spot she claimed each time she occupied the store.

As she neared the antique looking green velvet chair she usually claimed, she realized that it was already occupied. She let out a small disappointed sigh as she eyed the figure in “her” chair. Hermione was certain she’d never seen him in the shop before, but a sense of familiarity arose in her upon seeing the man. He was clad entirely in black. Inky black hair shrouded his face, and his too-tall figure was hunched over a small table in front of the chair. He appeared to be intently studying a piece of parchment. She heard him growl in frustration before leaning back and stretching. At that moment, the curtain of hair protecting his identity fell away and Hermione let out an audible gasp and nearly dropped her book. The man turned and his gaze burned into the girl. He narrowed his eyes and his features twisted into a scowl.

The two stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Hermione finally gained her wits back enough to stammer out a short sentence.

“P-professor, lovely to see you.”

Was it? Hermione guessed it was. After the final battle at Hogwarts, the Potion’s Master had been grievously injured by the Dark Lord’s snake, Nagini. The Golden Trio originally mistook him for dead in that blasted shack. Hermione wasn’t sure what compelled her to do so, but after the Dark Lord was finally defeated and the Elder Wand cast away, she went back to the mourn Severus Snape. She supposed she felt bad for the way they had villainized him over the years, when he was in fact, a hero. Heroes deserved to be mourned properly. When she arrived at shack after managing her way through the rubble of Hogwarts, she was overjoyed to find the professor still had a pulse. She chided herself for missing it before, but there was hope! Snape had then been rushed off to St. Mungos, and the Golden Trio hadn’t seen him since. Hermione had wanted to go and visit, but in the weeks that followed she had been busy mourning the losses of her friends and mentors and dealing with the heavy toll the war had placed on Wizarding Britain. She also highly doubted that their professor would be overjoyed to see any of his students while he was in recovery.

Hermione was able to keep tabs on Snape via the Daily Prophet. She remembered sitting in the Burrow in the days after the battle reading the paper. She let out a sigh of relief she didn’t realize she had been holding in when she read the headline “Death Eater Turned Double Agent Hero Lives!” She remembered Harry being overjoyed and Ron hiding a smile because he too was happy that the “greasy git” survived.

The man before her cleared his throat. The noise brought Hermione back to the present. She could feel his eyes boring into her. She wasn’t sure what to say. “Glad you’re alive” or “You’re looking well.” Neither seemed hardly appropriate.

“I, um,” Hermione started. For once she was at a loss for words. “My parents insisted upon me spending the last couple weeks of break ‘magic-free’ before going back to Hogwarts.” She paused. “That’s why I’m here.”

She wanted to say more, but her words died off in her throat. Why was she explaining herself? Surely Snape didn’t care to know why she was spending her days in a muggle shop.

The man before her inhaled deeply before responding. “You’re a talented witch, Miss Granger. Spending even a day without magic does you no favors.”

Hermione felt her face go flush. She was suddenly incredibly embarrassed. Ron, Harry, and Ginny all gave her a hard time about conceding to her parent’s wishes also. She felt as if she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t expect her parents to just be okay with the fact that their daughter erased herself from their memories and went off to fight a war. If a couple magic-free weeks were what it took to ease their minds, then Hermione was determined to see it through.

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right.” She wanted to ask him why he was here, but didn’t feel the need to. She wasn’t dim. Anyone with half a brain could understand why a man who was thrust into the spotlight after years of seclusion would seek refuge somewhere no one would think to look for him.

She grasped the book she held tightly in her hand. She watched as her movements caused his eyes to glance at the book in her clutches. He arched a brow and what looked like the ghost of a smirk danced upon his lips. Hermione’s brows knit in confusion. She looked down at the book and read the title “Adventures in Modern Sex Magick”. Her breath caught in her throat, and her blush deepened. If it was a possibility, she probably would have died from embarrassment.

She opened her mouth to explain herself, but Snape stood, interrupting her.

“No need to explain yourself Miss Granger.” He folded up the parchment he had been studying and shoved the stained paper into his cloak pocket. He took a few steps closer to her and it took all of her resolve to not take a step back. He leaned in and a musky oak smell filled her nostrils. She couldn’t help but to think that he smelled pleasant. His warm breath tickled the nape of her neck, causing gooseflesh to prickle across her skin.

“I trust that you will be able to keep this encounter to yourself?” He drawled in the silky baritone Hermione had grown accustomed to.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Snape stood straight up and brushed passed the girl. “Perfect.” He said popping the “T” at the end.

Hermione didn’t turn around until she heard the bell on the door chime signaling his departure. She relaxed and sighed before noting that her clothes were suspiciously dry and warm to the touch. Snape must have used a wordless charm to dry her off. Snape had never seemed the type to offer random acts of kindness. Perhaps he was a truly changed man? Hermione thought not. He had been decent all along, hadn’t he? She felt her cheeks heat up at the thought of the man’s previous close proximity. Hermione let out a breath and silently chided herself for acting like a silly schoolgirl. She headed to ‘her’ chair and plopped down. She noted that the musky oak smell lingered, and although she would never admit it, she secretly relished it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the MAJOR delay! I'm hoping to at least update this story weekly from now on. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. Tell me what you think!

The first of September arrived quicker than Hermione had anticipated. The word nervous was a drastic understatement as to how the girl truly felt. She recalled how her legs visibly shook as she entered the platform at 9 ¾. Molly’s sobs of joy mixed with grief still reverberated through her mind. The collar of her sweater was slightly damp with the tears from the matron Weasley. Hermione could even still feel the ghost of the bone-crunching hug the woman enveloped her in. Molly was understandably reluctant to let her two youngest children go back to the school were the final battle in the war took place. Their family had lost so much in such a short amount of time, and Molly was the epitome of “worried mother”. She finally relented with Ron and Ginny’s insistence and had gathered her children, along with Hermione and Harry, and took them to King’s Cross Station.

Boarding the train to Hogwarts was a much more somber occasion than it had been in years passed. Hermione couldn’t help but to notice how sullen most of her schoolmates and their parents appeared. The girl knew it was because most were still in mourning. It didn’t take a legilimens to work out that they were grieving those that weren’t there to board the train to Hogwarts with them. Hermione selfishly hoped the sullen mood wouldn’t set the tone for the entire year. She had endured enough sorrow and grief. They all had. 

Hermione’s head rested against the window of the train. It appeared as if the London rain would be following them to Hogwarts. She watched as water trickled down the glass. It was almost peaceful. She was close to dozing off when she felt fingers intertwine with hers. She had to bite back a surprised yelp and fight the urge to pull her hand away. She calmed quickly when it realized it was just Ron.

“Sorry ‘Mione. I just wanted to, uh,” He paused. “It’s just been a bit rough.” He looked lost.

“It’s okay Ron, I understand.” 

Hermione squeezed his hand in reassurance and offered him a warm smile. He returned the smile and leaned over to place a quick peck on the girl’s cheek. Hermione blushed slightly and turned her gaze back to the window. Ron leaned into her shortly after and dozed off. She had to admit that she found the weight comforting. She turned her gaze toward Harry and Ginny. Ginny was scrunched up as close to Harry as she could be, and his arm was draped across her shoulder. The train ride had also managed to lull the youngest Weasley to sleep. Hermione wasn’t surprised that they both had dozed off so quickly. Ron had complained about his lack of sleep on several occasions since going home. He didn’t admit it to anyone other than Hermione and Harry, but sleep was filled mostly with nightmares. Ginny had also complained about her lack of sleep, but she blamed her sleepless nights on her mother’s constant fussing. Hermione made a mental note to make sure to owl Molly regularly. The last thing they needed was Molly Weasley storming the castle because her children neglected to keep in touch.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a quiet “ahem”.

Her eyes trailed from Ginny’s flowing red hair to Harry’s face. He smiled, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes.

“How are you doing?” Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I bit nervous I suppose.”

Harry was quiet for a moment. “Same here. It doesn’t seem quite the same, does it?”

Hermione shook her head. “It doesn’t. I just hope things get back to normal eventually.” 

Harry sighed deeply and in that moment Hermione couldn’t help but to notice how pained he looked. She had felt guilty leaving Harry and Ron alone to deal with the all of the chaos and survivor’s guilt when she went to find her parents. She knew her friends understood, but they were stronger together. It probably would have been easier on the boys if Hermione had stuck around all summer. 

“Harry, answer me honestly. How are you?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. The boy looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure.”

Hermione knew that was his honest answer, she just wished he was able to offer her more. He had been excruciatingly forlorn and uninhabited all of break.  
“It’s a bit much.” He started before pausing again. “I thought I was ready to come back. I thought it would be good for all of us. After everything we’ve all been through, after everything we lost…” His voice broke off. Hermione knew him well enough to know that he was holding back tears. 

She gave him a sincere smile and didn’t force the conversation. Soon enough Harry had dozed off as well. The silence stretched on, but it was comfortable. For the rest of the trip Hermione listened to the slight snores and snuffles of her friends and watched as the rain fell. The rolling hills and waterways were a sight for sore eyes. It was a nice sight after spending half the summer in the city. Thankfully the rain was beginning to clear up. It had slowed to a light mist by the time the train had screeched to a halt. Harry stirred awake as the train stopped, and Ginny fluttered awake soon after. Hermione reluctantly withdrew her hand from Ron’s and gently roused him from his sleep. A bit of drool had formed in the corner of his mouth and Hermione couldn’t help but to chuckle. She was thankful that some things would never change. 

Ron caught her smirk and quickly wiped his mouth, but not before Harry and his sister noticed. By the time they got off the Hogwarts Express their mood was noticeably lighter. Hermione noticed that most of her schoolmates appeared visibly less sullen. She couldn’t help but to wonder if there were charms in place or if everyone was simply happy to gain some sense of normalcy back into their lives. 

Harry and Ginny walked slightly ahead of Hermione and Ron, their hands quickly finding each other’s. It filled Hermione with joy to see Harry and Ginny so content with each other. She silently wondered if she should take Ron’s hand, or if he would offer his to her. After a few moments he didn’t reach for her and Hermione decided it best to shove her hands in her coat pocket. She was reluctant to make a fool out of herself by assuming things. She knew she loved Ron, and that he loved her, but she wasn’t sure what kind of love they had for each other. They suffered a lot emotionally and physically in the war. Ron had always been there for her, and a year ago she would have told you matter-of-factly that they were going to end up married with their own broad of children. Things were very different now and the young witch wasn’t sure if that’s the life she wanted after all. She knew she should have had a sit down with Ron before the school year started, but she dreaded the thought of it. For now she was content with waiting until the issue came up. 

“There’s Neville!” Ron pointed to the boy across the station and Harry’s face lit up. Neville caught their attention and started toward them. He awkwardly wrapped the four in an embrace. 

“Am I glad to see you lot!”

Neville’s smile was ear to ear. He wore a newfound air of confidence and appeared to be much more fit than he had been. Hermione had to admit that it was a very good change for him. She guessed the newfound confidence emerged after he had destroyed the Dark Lord’s slithery horcrux. 

Bright blonde hair caught Hermione’s gaze. She looked over to see Luna trailing behind Neville.

The girl didn’t join in on the awkward group hug, but she looked well. “It’s so nice to see you all.”

Luna’s wardrobe was dialed down much more than it normally was, but other than that, she appeared ordinary- or as ordinary as Luna Lovegood could be. Hermione felt a pang of guilt at the thought of Luna losing her father, but she was glad to see that she and Neville had managed to find each other. Hermione guessed they had reconnected over break. The two seemed very comfortable with each other. Hermione tried to make out if they were an item or not, but the pair’s overall general awkwardness made it difficult to determine. Hermione would venture to bet that if they weren’t, they were going to be. The thought made her genuinely smile.  
After exchanging “hellos” and “how have you beens” the group left the Hogsmead Platform and headed toward the carriages that would take them to the school. Hermione noticed a lot of their schoolmates were enthralled by the skeletal Thestrals. While Hermione had never noticed the Thestrals before, she had read about them. She suspected nearly all of the students would be seeing them this year. The thought saddened her. 

It didn’t take them long to reach the castle. The students were all quickly bustled inside. When all formalities were over with and they all finally reached the Great Hall Hermione found herself growing nervous. She had received an owl earlier in the summer about her being chosen as a candidate for Head Girl. The Head Girl from the previous year suffered complications from a curse and refused to return to Hogwarts because of it. While she did feel sorry for the girl, the anticipation of not knowing if she received the title was killing her. Many parents opted not to send their young children to Hogwarts. They needed to ensure the school was really as safe as it had been in years passed. There were very few new first years, so the Sorting Ceremony was exceptionally short. After the Sorting Ceremony ended, they began re-announcing prefects, Head Boy and Girl, and introducing new staff members. Harry mentioned that Headmistress McGonagall also asked him to say a few words. She doubted Harry really wanted to stand in front of the entire school and give them a pep talk, but he agreed regardless. 

Hermione hoped they would re-announce the Prefects and Head Girl and Boy first. Most of the Prefects were the same as the previous year, and as far as Hermione knew Head Boy was the same. Instead of getting the announcements out of the way McGonagall spoke about endurance and strength and how proud she was of the entire school, then she called upon Harry and he went up to speak. Hermione tried to listen, she really did, but she couldn’t shake the anticipation budding inside of her, or the feeling that she was being watched. Her eyes flitted around to the various tables before landing on the staff table at the front of the hall. Her eyes met Snape’s obsidian ones. He quickly broke contact, but not before Hermione noticed him looking at her. Her mind went back to that day in the muggle shop and her cheeks went red. She was successful in putting the event out of her mind, but now she couldn’t help but to recall that ridiculous book she picked up. As if Snape didn’t give her a hard enough time in previous years. Hermione could now only imagine the ridicule she was going to face from him this year. 

“Hermione Granger!” 

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of her name being called out in the Great Hall. Ron lightly elbowed her. 

“Congrats ‘Mione!” He was grinning, and applause filled the hall. She was surprised to see Harry was seated back at the table. 

Professor McGonagall was looking at her expectantly, and Professor Snape stood right beside her. McGonagall motioned her to the front of the hall and Hermione got up quickly, nearly tripping over her robes. This must have met she got Head Girl! Hermione chided herself for not paying attention. What else had she missed? She had been entirely too caught up in her head lately. 

She went to stand beside another seventh year that she only assumed was Head Boy. It was terrible, but she didn’t remember his name. She recognized his face and his chestnut colored curly hair. She knew he was a Hufflepuff, but any other details about him escaped her. He offered her a wide smile. 

“Congratulations!” 

“You too.” Hermione offered. 

McGonagall and Snape presented them each their badges. Hermione would have been lying if she said she didn’t take advantage of the potion professor’s close proximity. She inhaled deeply and the same musky scent from the shop filled her nostrils. The girl wasn’t sure what it was about the smell that she enjoyed so much. Maybe it was because she hadn’t pegged the man to smell so… good. Suddenly she was worried her silly antics were becoming transparent. Snape barely glanced her way, and McGonagall couldn’t stop fussing over her badge placement. Hermione let out an internal sigh of relief. With her thoughts and emotions all over the place she was sure this was going to be a longer year that she had prepared for.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry I basically abandoned this fic. I'm going to be updating as I can. I don't have a Beta, so all mistakes belong to me. The Harry Potter series, and its characters, however do not.

The ceremony in the Great Hall flew by after the announcement. When Hermione returned to the table, several other Gryffindors congratulated her on the well-deserved Head Girl badge. She knew the position came with more responsibility, but she was confident she could handle it and her studies without any difficulty. She fought in a war and kept Ron and Harry alive while a maniac was after them after all. 

After the ceremony, she helped the Prefects and staff usher the rest of the students out of Great Hall and toward their common rooms. There were only a few new first years coming into Hogwarts this year, so getting everyone where they were supposed to be was an easy task. A lot of parents were reluctant to send their children to Hogwarts. They needed to make sure the school was really as safe as it claimed to be. Many parents chose to send their first years to other schools, like Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, or Ilvermorny. Because of this, the majority of the students already knew where their common rooms and dormitories were, as well as how to access them. The portrait of the Fat Lady was a welcome sight. She held a near-empty glass of wine in her hand, and appeared to be snacking on something scrumptious.  
“Oh, hello again dear! So nice to see you back. Password please?”

Hermione muttered the ridiculous password that McGonagall had given her. The portrait swung open. Hermione turned her direction to the new first-years and explained to them how important it was to remember the current password. When she was sure that the children understood how to access their common room, she escorted them through the portrait and into their dormitories. The new first years would be staying separately from the previous year’s first years. The professors thought it would be best to attempt to keep everything as “normal” as possible, even though all of the previous year’s students were repeating the year they were in. It couldn’t be helped. Education lacked greatly when a madman was trying to imprison and kill a quarter of the wizarding population. 

Once Hermione was satisfied that the young ones were comfortable enough in their accommodations, she went to the Gryffindor Common Room in hopes to catch up with her classmates from last year.

Harry and Ron were setting at a small table near the fireplace, playing a game of wizarding chess. The sight brought a true smile to Hermione’s face. Ginny was nearby talking with Lavender Brown and a 5th year that she wasn’t able to name. Ginny and Lavender waved her over and Hermione took a seat on the plush carpet near them. 

“Congrats ‘Mione!” Ginny offered, “Of course, they wouldn’t give Head Girl to anyone else, would they?”

Hermione chuckled. “I’m surprised they kept the same Head Boy as last year. What’s his name?” 

“Oh, that’s Wilum Wood. He’s related to Oliver Wood somehow, I think.” Lavender chimed in. 

“They offered it to Harry y’ know?” Ginny mentioned. 

Hermione looked over at Harry. “They did? Why didn’t you mention it?” 

Harry shrugged, not looking away from the game board. “The owl came while you were with your parents. I owled back and told them I didn’t want it.” 

Ron laughed. “Yeah, Harry’s had enough responsibility for a lifetime. You’re just a masochist ‘Mione.”

Ginny and Lavender both chuckled. The 5th year obviously felt out of the loop and didn’t offer much to the conversation. 

“They offered it to Draco too, but he decided to go forward with an internship instead of coming back to Hogwarts.” Harry offered after a while. “Guess his family still has a lot of pull, even after everything that happened.”

“You talk to Draco?” Hermione asked, perplexed. 

“Yeah.” Harry offered. “He and his mum stopped by Grimmuld Place early on in the break. The war really messed him up.” 

Hermione shivered. Thinking of Narcissa Malfoy left a foul taste in her throat and made the scar on her arm itch. It wasn’t Narcissa’s fault that her sister was a psychopath, but thinking of one instantly made her remember the pure evilness of the other. Hermione pulled the sleeve of her cardigan down further, having vanished her robes to her room as soon as she had the new first years settled. 

“Hm.” Was all Hermione offered in response. 

“When do you find out your duties Hermione?” The 5th year girl questioned. 

“Oh, I, uh forgot!” Hermione scrambled to get up off the floor. “I was supposed to meet with Snape after I got the new students settled! McGonagall didn’t have time to go over our duties.” 

Ron made a face, but Hermione ignored it. She knew any dislike he previously had for the man vanished when Voldemort did. 

“Good luck with that ‘Mione. Want us to walk you to his office?” Ron asked.

“No, thank you Ron. It’s going to be curfew time soon. I wouldn’t want to get one of you in trouble.”

Ron rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything else. They all knew the odds of any of them getting in trouble for slightly breaking curfew was slim, but Hermione felt obligated to set a good precedence as Head Girl. 

“I’ll be back soon, I hope. I’ll see you all at breakfast tomorrow!”

Hermione hurried out of the common room, and made her way as quickly as possible to the dungeons. It wasn’t a fast trip, but it was as fast as she could make it. When she finally arrived in the dungeons, the drafts reminded her that she wasn’t wearing her robes. She silently prayed that Snape wouldn’t mention her lack of proper attire, given it was the first day back. 

When she arrived at his office she knocked on the door. A few moments passed before there was any response. Did he leave or decide to retire early? Hermione hoped that wasn’t the case. She didn’t want to have to explain to McGonagall that she entirely forgot that she was meeting with Snape. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud deep voice beckoned her to “Enter.”

She opened the door slowly. When she entered she was surprised to see that Snape looked a little disheveled. His signature frock coat and robes were missing, and his white undershirt was slightly unbuttoned. Hermione could see the hint of a vicious scar peeking out from where the shirt was undone. The scar looked fresher than it should have. It had been months since he was bitten by the cursed snake, but the scar looked as if it happened mere weeks ago.  
Snape sneered at her. 

“Miss Granger, perhaps you don’t take the Head Girl title seriously enough? Did I not ask you meet me in my office promptly after you got the little lions settled?” He paused, and Hermione was about to respond, but he interrupted her. “If you can’t manage the students in your own house, how in the world are you going to aid in managing the rest of the students, or the Prefects?”

Hermione wasn’t sure how to respond, or if she even should. She wasn’t sure why Snape was lashing out at her. She was late, sure, but it’s not like she committed a grievous mistake. It became obvious that the Potion’s Master was waiting on a reply. 

“I apologize sir, I lost track of time. I assure you it won’t happen again.” Hermione practically stammered her response.

Snape huffed, obviously frustrated. “You’re going to have to talk with McGonagall regarding your duties.” He practically spat the last word. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m late to meet Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing.” 

Hermione’s gut twisted at the thought of approaching McGonagall. Not only was the Headmistress extremely busy, but she put Hermione on a pedestal. The headmistress seemed to think the female member of the Golden Trio could do no wrong. It was heart-wrenching to see how McGonagall reacted on the rare occasions Hermione did seem to disappoint the previous Gryffindor Head of House. 

“Sir, I beg of you to go over my duties with me. I very much don’t want to have the Headmistress upset with me.” 

Snape looked at her like she lost her mind. Very rarely did anyone ever second-guess him. Hermione could tell that his patience with her was thinning.  
“Perhaps I could help you with whatever Madame Pomfrey was assisting you with?” Hermione gulped. She had no idea why the man was going to the hospital wing. What if it was something entirely too private that he required assistance with?

“I mean, that is if you allow it, sir. I think you’ll know that I’m very adept at following directions and have considered becoming a healer after my schooling. Plus, I could assist you with whatever you needed in the privacy of your office instead of you having to traverse to the hospital wing. You can go over my duties while I assist you, and then I promise not to bother you again.”

Snape’s nostrils flared. He looked irate. Hermione was very well aware that she overstepped her bounds as a student. Part of the Golden Trio, or not, some lines were best not to cross. She jumped when a voice echoed from Snape’s fireplace. 

“Severus?” The voice questioned.

Snape went over to the grate. “Yes Poppy? I apologize for the delay. It appears Miss Granger can’t properly keep track of time.”

Poppy’s face in the embers offered Hermione a concerned, motherly glance, but she quickly turned her attentions back to the other professor. 

“I do apologize Severus, but I have to floo to Saint Mungo’s. A whole Magizoology team that traveled to Egypt came back with severe Billywig stings. It seems I’m one of the few mediwitches with experience with the nasty little things. I should be back tomorrow if you can wait?” 

Snape growled in frustration. “It’s quite alright Poppy. I’m sure I can manage.”

With a nod, Madame Pomfrey’s face disappeared from the grate. 

Hermione felt awkward, and almost a little relieved. She wondered if Snape would take her up on her offer of help. 

“Well Miss Granger, as loathe as I am to admit, it seems I may be in need of your assistance after all.” 

Hermione nearly sighed with relief. Her relief quickly turned to anxiety when Snape motioned to another door on the far side of the office. 

“I’ve left everything in my quarters. Some of the potions are very delicate. It would be best if we went to them.” 

Snape no longer seemed angry, just incredibly tired. Hermione followed quietly. She was flabbergasted that a man like Snape would allow someone like her ( a student and a Gryffindor!) into his private quarters. Snape ushered her into a sitting room at the end of a short hallway. 

“Do not touch anything unless you’re specifically directed to do so.” He paused and turned to look at the girl. “If you so much as whisper that you were in my private quarters, I’ll find a way to make it known to your friends that you were in a Muggle shop learning about ‘Sex Magick’”. The last word was pronounced with an auditory ‘pop’ at the end. 

Hermione’s face turned a deep red, and the potions professor’s lips quirked into a smirk. He was obviously pleased with her embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone, sir.” 

Snape turned away from her and Hermione could tell he was further unbuttoning his shirt. She felt entirely too awkward and nearly decided to run from the room, consequences be damned. She wasn’t sure if she would feel the same way if it hadn’t been for their close contact in the Muggle shop a few weeks before. She wasn’t sure why, but seeing Snape in the shop made him seem much more human… and Hermione could almost envision the man as attractive. Hermione quickly chided herself for having such ludicrous thoughts. Professor Snape was just a man! Just a man, like Harry or Ron. She had spent months living with them in a small tent and never once suffered inappropriate thoughts. She needed to get herself together!

“Miss Granger, if you could, please quiet your thoughts.” 

Hermione gasped. “I am trying very hard NOT to listen to them, but you’re very loudly projecting.” 

Hermione thought for sure she was going to die of embarrassment. 

Snape cleared his throat, simultaneously clearing her mind of any further thoughts. 

“Whenever you’re ready Miss Granger, we can get this over with and quickly go over your duties.”

Hermione nodded. Snape hadn’t taken his shirt off entirely. His whole right arm, shoulder, and good portion of his torso were exposed. Hermione took a deep breath. She first noticed his lithe figure, and the fine spattering of salt and pepper hair that covered his chest. Her attention was quickly turned away from his body when she noticed his neck. She could see the whole extent of the damage now. His neck and collarbone was covered in a nasty red scar. Maybe scar wasn’t the right word? It looked mostly healed, but still had qualities of a badly infected wound. Hermione recognized the damage. Her arm looked much the same, maybe a little better. They were cursed wounds. She felt fury rise in her gut. If that damned snake wasn’t dead, she’d kill it herself. 

Snape closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He could feel the girl’s stare. He wanted to pull his shirt back on and send her away. What was he thinking having a student help him treat his wounds? He couldn’t do it by himself, but maybe it would be better to suffer for the night?  
Hermione drew close to him and he had to bite back the urge to scream at her. 

“Professor?” Hermione questioned quietly. “Will you please advise me on what I should be assisting with?” 

He opened his eyes and his obsidian orbs met her hazel ones. The girl seemed as if she truly wanted to help him now, but her eyes held no trace of pity like everyone else’s did.

“Maybe we should just go over your Head Girl duties so that you may leave?” Snape offered. 

Hermione shook her head. It took a fair amount of her Gryffindor courage, but she spoke up after a few moments. “No, sir, I’d like to help if you’ll allow it. I should have arrived much more promptly than I did. It’s my fault Madame Pomfrey couldn’t assist you.”

Snape didn’t look convinced. Hermione wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt the need to assure him everything was okay. 

“I have scars too, sir.” She slowly pulled up the sleeve of her cardigan. 

Snape gulped at the nasty scar on her arm. ‘Mudblood’ was carved into her skin in big, red, nasty welts. 

His eyes looked to hers, questioning. 

“Bellatrix.” Was all Hermione offered in response. 

Snape nodded quickly. 

“Cursed blade?”

Hermione hummed. 

“The same potion you’re about to help me apply might also be of use to you, I could bottle you some before you leave, if you’d like?”  
Hermione felt a smile play on her lips. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, sir.”

Snape didn’t return the smile. He didn’t offer her help purely out of the kindness of his heart. He felt sick. Hermione Granger was merely a child when the war was raging, and she had endured much more than she should have. Mudblood was a nasty remark, and she didn’t deserve to have it carved into her arm for the remainder of her life.

“If you would, grab the oblong potion bottle from the table along with the cloth beside it.” 

Hermione did as she instructed. “Dab the cloth into the potion three times. Be careful not to spill it, the ingredients of this potion are difficult to come by.”  
Hermione nodded, and did the action exactly as directed. The potion was a light blue, creamy mixture that reminded her of the expensive French lotion her mother used.

“I cannot apply the potion to myself. The curse prevents me from doing so. That’s why many of that cursed snake’s victims didn’t survive. If you would, please dab the mixture directly onto the scar.” 

Hermione did as she was told, gently dabbing the cloth onto the bubbled flesh. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle.” Snape quirked. “I’m not going to break, girl.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and Snape narrowed his. Once she thoroughly dabbed the contents on the cloth onto his skin, he directed her through three more bottles of potions. The last potion had to be ingested. Moments after the regimen was over, the skin already looked visibly better. Hermione was quite pleased with herself.  
“You did well Miss Granger.” Snape started, “But your talents would be wasted on a career as mundane as a mediwitch at Saint Mungo’s.”  
Hermione took the compliment, and decided not to rebuke his statement. 

“Let me bottle this for you and then we’ll go over your Head Girl duties. It’s getting late.”

Snape shrugged his shirt back on and buttoned it all the way to the collar. 

Hermione watched as he carefully transferred some of the blue creamy potion from one bottle, to a smaller one. 

“This might not heal the scar completely. Unfortunately cursed wounds are extremely hard to heal and almost never heal entirely. This will, however, provide you with much more comfort and allow you to easily glamor the scar should you wish to.” 

Hermione nodded and accepted the bottle. He motioned for her to follow him out of the sitting room and back into his office. He sat at his desk and handed her several papers. Hermione barely listened as he droned on about the information on the papers. She could easily read the papers herself. She was surprised that she felt almost upset. The man in front of her was back to being the enigma that was ‘Professor Snape’. Moments ago he appeared so human, almost vulnerable, and much more likeable. 

Snape finished his short speech and asked Hermione if she had any questions. For once, she didn’t. He quickly dismissed her and she found her way back to her dormitory. Thankfully no one was in the common room. She made her way to her private room and placed the small bottle on the stand near her bed and gathered her nightclothes. She changed and applied the potion to her scar exactly as she had to the professor. The girl almost let out a giddy scream when she realized all of the pain from the wound subsided almost immediately. She had lived with the pain of the scar ever since the deranged witch gave it to her. She was resigned to the fact that she would have to deal with the pain, and the scar, for the rest of her life. Even the healers at Saint Mungo’s weren’t able to stop the ache. She lay back in her bed and relished in the lack of a painful throb. Before sleep claimed her, her mind was overtaken by a singular thought: Severus Snape was a bloody brilliant wizard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, short, short chapter! I'll be posting a much longer one shortly!  
> I love hearing your thoughts, input, and criticism. Please review!

The scar on Severus’ neck pulsed. He could still feel the ghosts of Hermione’s fingers dancing along his throat. He put his hand up to it, only to receive a tiny jolt of pain before he was close enough to touch it. It had been months since that blasted snake died, along with its maniacal master. He wished the stupid curse would finally ebb away as well. He had spent days researching ingredients and spells that would keep him mildly comfortable. The healers at Saint Mungo’s had kept him alive, but they gave him very little comfort. Even now he was in pain. Perhaps if he could only work on healing the damned scar himself, he would achieve better results. He enjoyed his privacy and he hated asking for help. It was bad enough that Poppy was required to help him heal and dress the cursed wound, but now he had to seek the aid of a student?

‘Not just any student either.’ He thought to himself bitterly. 

Of course it had to be Hermione Granger. The girl was quickly becoming a thorn in his side. It had shocked him to see the girl during the summer holiday. He was sure the girl would blab all about how she saw their potion’s professor relaxing in a Muggle shop. He was a little shocked and relieved that no one else had found out. He had been going to the shop to escape Albus and Voldemort for years. It was a familiar, yet neutral territory. No one knew him there. It was comfortable. Once he was released from Saint Mungo’s after the war, he found himself frequenting the store more and more often. Muggle London was his only reprieve from the constant badgering from reporters and colleagues. He would hate to lose ‘his’ secret spot because Granger couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 

Before seeing her in the shop Severus had really hoped he wouldn’t have the ‘joy’ of teaching the Trio again this year. He had desperately hoped the acclaim and experience the three had gained during the last seven years would be enough for them, and they would go on to the next chapter of their lives. Of course that wasn’t the case. He wouldn’t ever get so lucky. Severus supposed they came back to Hogwarts for the same reason he did. They all needed closure and Final Battle or not, Hogwarts had been their home during most of their formative years. The ghosts, real and otherwise, couldn’t keep him away either. 

Severus no longer served any masters or any causes. He knew he could run away and never look back if he chose. In fact, that was what he had chosen prior to the war ending. His original intentions, if he survived, were to go somewhere far away and forget everything and everyone that ever caused him pain. He must have been more of a masochist than he realized, because when Minerva asked him to come back to Hogwarts he didn’t even hesitate to say “yes”. He knew he could have any life he chose. He had money, he had his newfound fame, and he had his self-sufficiency. Instead of taking off for some tropical island he was back in the grimy dungeons of the school that haunted him for the last couple decades. 

Thinking of the Trio made his mind wander back to the scar on the girl’s arm. Most of the survivors of the war bared scars, physical and otherwise. It didn’t surprise him that the girl had suffered the way she did. Not only was she of Muggle parentage, but she was one of the Chosen One’s best friends. He supposed she was lucky she even survived the war. He shuddered at the thought that she may have endured even worse torture or pain. He briefly wondered if he had any other potions in his stores that could aid in healing the bubbled flesh on her arm. Maybe he would speak with Minerva about it.

Severus slowly got up from his desk and headed toward the door on the far side of the room. Once he arrived in his sitting room, he began to slowly undress. He left his clothes lay where they fell and wandered to his bedroom. At the sight of his bed, all other thoughts but sleep left him. He collapsed onto the four-poster bed and buried himself into the silky sheets. He quickly downed the bottle of Dreamless Sleep that he kept in constant supply on his bed stand. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning sun filtered through the sheer red and gold curtains in Hermione’s room. Her eye’s fluttered open and she barely registered an ache in her arm. Hermione was disappointed that the pain in her arm had returned. It wasn’t nearly as terrible as it had been, but there was still a very noticeable hurt. She reached for the bottle to apply more of the creamy blue potion, but quickly thought better of it. Snape had said the ingredients were hard to come by. She needed to be smart and use the potion only when she needed it. She should have asked Snape more about the potion the previous night. Maybe she could have helped him procure some of the ingredients? Thoughts from the previous night entered her thoughts. Before she could help it, her mind wandered to his muscular arms, lithe body, and the salt and pepper hair that covered his chest where it was exposed. She could feel her face heating up, and felt an unfamiliar pang pool in her lower abdomen. 

She quickly scolded herself.

“Snap out of it! He’s your professor Hermione!” 

She supposed it really wasn’t all that strange for students to develop crushes on their teachers. The logical part of her brain knew it was normal. She did have that terrible infatuation on Gilderoy Lockhart during her second year at Hogwarts when she was just a girl. Looking back on it now, she shuddered to think she ever thought so highly of that fraud. She respected Snape. Highly. He had many redeemable qualities. She had never before considered him ‘attractive’, at least not in the traditional sense. She shook her head again. She needed to control her ridiculous emotions. Maybe her sudden interest in Snape was due to her lack of experience. It was hard to focus on normal teenage things when you were nearly always caught between life or death.

She shrugged all thoughts of Snape, and the war, out of her mind and began her morning routine. She’d have to get up earlier than the rest of her classmates to ensure the Prefects or Head of House didn’t require anything of her. She was supposed to meet with their Hogwarts Head of House with the other Gryffindor Prefect this morning.

Since Professor McGonagall had taken over as Headmistress of the school, a recent hire had taken over as Hogwarts Head of House. His name was Everett Meadows. He had been a student at Hogwarts a little less than a decade ago, and had taken over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. It was only the first day of classes and many of the students that met him at the opening ceremony were betting that he would resign within the year. Seamus Finnegan said he was too “bubbly” to teach DADA. Hermione only got to meet him in passing in the chaos of the night before, but she was looking forward to her meeting with him that morning.

She got dressed quickly. Before she pulled on another long-sleeved cardigan she paused and examined the scar on her arm. Snape had said it would be much easier to glamour. Hermione had given up on even trying to glamour the mark. It barely took, and when it did, it only lasted a few moments. Without trying to get her hopes up, she closed her eyes and cast the glamour. When she opened her eyes she was surprised to see the scar had completely vanished! She ran her fingers along her arm, and could still feel the raised flesh, but she was happy regardless. She could feel tears prick at her eyes. She had to live with looking at the scar ever since Bellatrix Lestrange gave it to her. The other scars on her body were much more tolerable. The one on her arm was a near-constant reminder of the bloody war and all of the horrible experiences she suffered during it.

A smile spread across her face. She pulled on short-sleeved shirt for the first time in a long time and shrugged on her robes. She slid the sleeves up to her elbows and ran her fingers over the seemingly clear skin on her arm again. After she was dressed she began working on her frizzy mane. Ginny had taught her a beauty spell over the summer that kept her hair in nice tight ringlets. It was a godsend in the summer and worked even better than the Sleekeazy’s Potion. She neglected to use the spell while she was with her parents, but thankfully had ample access to Muggle hair supplies. 

Once she was satisfied with her hair, she slipped on her shoes and headed out of her dorm. She arrived at Professor Meadow’s office several minutes early. She debated knocking on the door, but decided to wait until the other Prefect from Gryffindor also showed up.

Hermione greeted him warmly when he arrived. Ronald was supposed to continue being a Prefect this year, but somehow talked McGonagall into giving the badge to a 5th year boy. Ron said his final year would be a much needed vacation. After Ron had finally convinced his mom to allow him and Ginny to come back to school he had finally told her he was giving up his badge. Molly was upset at first, but eventually gave in saying she knew Ginny would be elected Head Girl next year.

When the boy arrived, Hermione gently knocked on the wooden door.

“Come in!” a deep sing-song voice beckoned from the other side.

Hermione entered first, followed by the other Gryffindor.

Upon seeing the students, Professor Meadows shot up from his desk. “Oh, yes! I nearly forgot you both were stopping in this morning. I’m still trying to get the hang out everything.”

He reached over to shake their hands and ended up falling face first onto his desk, spilling ink everywhere. He looked up at both of the students with a perfect broad smile. Hermione distantly thought of her parents. They’d love to have him as a patient. His smile was contagious and both students found themselves chuckling at his antics.

The man before her wasn’t anything Hermione had expected from a DADA professor. He was probably in his late twenties, had curly strawberry blond hair, and was exceptionally tall. He seemed much more suited to model swimwear than he did to instruct students on defending themselves against the dark arts. The girl also would never have pegged him as a Gryffindor. If she was in the habit of betting, she surely would have placed him in Hufflepuff. Hermione only got to see him briefly at the staff table yesterday. She had been too anxious about the Head Girl announcement, and though she would never admit it, too focused on Snape. She didn’t get a chance to fully take the new professor in.

He muttered a quiet “Scourgify” and the ink disappeared from his robes and desk.

“Sorry again, it’s been a little strange being back at Hogwarts. Do I seem nervous? I’m nervous.”

Hermione shook her head.

“You’re perfectly fine, professor. I believe you’re to give us our patrol schedules?”

The professor nodded. “Yes, right! You’ve got a good head on you Granger.”

He handed a sheet of parchment to both Hermione and the 5th year male Prefect.

“It looks like you start patrols this evening Miss Granger.”

Hermione was secretly happy her patrols started so early. She wanted to make time to go by the library during her patrols; she just didn’t guess she’d be able to start so soon.

“Well, I suppose that’s it! Unless you have any questions?”

The 5th year said he didn’t, and Hermione thought the schedule was pretty self-explanatory.

“All right then, off you goes to breakfast. I’ll see you both in class this week.”

Both students left the professor to himself and made their way to the Great Hall. They walked in comfortable silence and said brief “see you laters” when they arrived at the Gryffindor table. Hermione found her way to the head of the table, closest to the staff tables, where Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Neville sat.

“Hullo Hermione,” Neville offered.

“Hey Neville,” she paused and directed her attention to her other friends as well. “How was everyone’s first night back?”

She noticed Ron looked a little rough. He was eating, at least, so that was a good sign.

“It was alright, I suppose.” Ginny offered. “How is it having your own private room? Mum says I’m a shoe-in for Head Girl next year. I just dunno if I could keep up with it alongside Quidditch and my NEWTS.”

“It’s great.” Hermione gushed. “I sort of miss rooming with Lavender and Parvarti, but it’s nice not having to listen to Lavender snore.”

Ginny chuckled and Neville let out a surprised yelp of a laugh.

Hermione turned her attention to Ron. “Are you alright Ronald? Did you sleep well?”

“He tossed all night.” Harry said, speaking up between bites of Danish.

“Did not!” Ron interjected. “I slept just fine ‘Mione, thanks.”

“You know,” Hermione started, “I think Madame Pomfrey had several draughts of dreamless sleep brewed. Perhaps you could speak with her about it.”

Ron sighed. “Yeah, maybe.”

Their end of the table fell into silence after that. Hermione picked at the oatmeal in front of her. A flash of black at the staff table caught her eye. She turned to see Professor Snape taking his place next to McGonagall at the table. His eyes locked onto hers as he sat down, and she gave him a warm smile. She wanted to hold up her arm, but thought that would be a little overkill. Plus, it might seem a little suspicious if her friends caught her waving at their once despised Professor. He knew what his potions were capable of. Neither Ron nor Harry knew about the scar. They both knew she was tortured by Bellatrix, but they didn’t know the extent. Fleur treated her when they arrived back at Shell Cottage when they escaped Malfoy Manor. Aside from the healers, Fleur, and now Snape, no one knew about the scar. She very much wanted to keep it that way.

She spotted Professor Meadows taking a seat directly next to Snape. The man caught her staring and offered her an awkward wave. He truly should have been a Hufflepuff. Hermione smiled and waved back. She saw Snape’s eyes narrow at the man next to him. Next to one another they were a sure sight. Professor Meadow’s probably stood a couple inches taller than Professor Snape. It didn’t seem possible since Snape was such a foreboding figure. While Snape’s robes were black as black can be, Meadow’s were more earth-toned. Going by looks, Snape would be a much more suitable teacher for DADA and Meadow’s looked like he’d be more at home in the Greenhouse.

Hermione chuckled at the thought and turned her attention back to her oatmeal. Breakfast finished soon after and Hermione bid goodbye to her friends and headed to her first class of the day. Her, Harry, and Ron all shared potions later on in the day, but other than that, their schedules were pretty broken up. Hermione did share Transfiguration with Ginny and Lavender, and Herbology with Neville. She was thankful she had someone she knew in most of her classes this year. She missed her other friends, most had all they needed from Hogwarts and didn’t deem it necessary to return. Others simply were unable to return in some form or another. Hermione frowned at the thought and busied herself in her studies.

The day went by rather quickly. She had entered the Great Hall and was excited to have lunch with her friends, but McGonagall had called her to her office to chat about her Head Girl business and she had cucumber sandwiches with the Headmistress instead. Two more classes passed, and Hermione found herself making the familiar trek back down to the dungeons. She had Professor Snape for two classes this year, since he was offering an “Advanced Potions” class for 7th years interested in interning in potions next year. She had her regular 7th year potions class today, and the other class later in the week. Hermione wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do when she finally left Hogwarts, and she wanted her transcripts to be as extensive as possible. What she learned in potions could be essentially applied in most careers after Hogwarts. She thought it was a smart choice.

She arrived in the classroom before Harry or Ron and took a seat toward the front of the class. There were only a couple other students in the classroom. Hermione recognized one as a Ravenclaw, and the other as a Slytherin. By the sound of it, Snape was rifling in the storage room. Hermione let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and relaxed on the stool. She considered taking out a book, but her friends should be there any moment. No point in getting drawn into a book, only to be soon distracted.

She heard Snape exit the storage room. She looked to find him placing several small bottles and ingredients on a desk toward the front of the room. Hermione didn’t expect to be brewing their first day. Maybe she should have assumed they would. Everyone in this class was a repeat 7th year after all. Snape looked up toward the classroom and caught her eye. It took her several moments to break contact and stop staring like a complete dimwit. When she looked away she thought she saw the ghost of a smirk, but more likely a scowl, on his face.

She was about to turn back and greet him when Ron burst through the room, Harry shortly behind him.

“Ron, mate, I’m sorry I told your mum but she was worried about you! No one else knows, just Molly. ”

Hermione heard Harry say. Harry had talked to Molly? About what?

“It wasn’t your place to tell!” Ron nearly screeched.

Ron saw Hermione toward the front of the room and made a bee-line toward her. When he got to the desk he angrily pulled out a stool and slammed it to the ground. He sat with a hard “thump” and his rucksack fell off of his shoulder onto the floor below. Hermione winced at the bang from the bag hitting the floor. The other students in the classroom all snapped their heads to look in their direction.

Suddenly Snape was there, leaning over their table. “Mr. Weasley.” His voice sounded somewhere between a growl and snarl.

“If you think your angry outbursts will be tolerated in my class, you are very sorely mistaken!”

Hermione flinched back. Harry hadn’t yet taken a seat, but was standing directly behind Hermione.

“I suggest you get your emotions under control before stepping foot in my classroom in the future. Is that understood?”

Ron’s face was beet red, but he nodded. Hermione could see the tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. She’d never seen Ron this angry or upset before.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape said directing his attention toward Harry, “I suggest you take a seat unless you’d lot like detention on your first day.”

The remark was made toward all three of them and Hermione stared at the professor incredulously before turning her attention back towards Ron.

Harry plopped down in the other stool on the opposite of Hermione.

When Snape finally walked away Hermione placed her hand on the back of the redhead’s neck.

“Ronald, what happened?”

He had calmed down, but he still seemed exceptionally upset.

“I can’t talk about it right now, ‘Mione. We’ll chat later.”

Hermione offered him a brief smile and removed her hand. She turned toward Harry and her other friend frowned and shrugged. Ron and Harry had fought in the past, but this seemed far more serious. Several more students filtered in and class began. Hermione had assumed correctly, they were brewing today. It was nothing too difficult. In fact, Hermione had memorized the steps and ingredients to this particular potion during her fifth year. It was a good thing they weren’t actually learning anything new. Her body was on autopilot as she chopped, sliced, and brewed. She tried turning her attention once more to Ron, only to be snubbed.

“I’m fine, ‘Mione. Leave me alone and let me work.”

Hermione stared at Harry. He looked almost as if he was working on autopilot as well. She tried getting his attention, but nothing worked.

She finished her potion before anyone else in the class. She expertly bottled it and took it to the front of the room to give to the professor.

“An overachiever as always, Miss Granger.”

Snape looked bored, but Hermione saw him glance at her arm. She met his eyes and gave him a warm smile. She watched as he un-stoppered the bottle and swirled the green shimmery potion around. He took a sniff and put the cork back into the bottle.

“E.” was all he said to her.

Hermione knew she could argue. The potion was brewed impeccably. Had they had any other professor, they would have given her an “Outstanding.” Hermione breathed in. She would have to choose her battles.

“Thank you professor.”

Snape hummed, but didn’t otherwise give any indications he had heard her.

Hermione headed back to her desk and once more became the wall between Harry and Ron. Harry finished his potion soon after. Hermione could see Ron was struggling. Instead of the shimmery green color, his potion looked more like the water in a bog. Ron’s body language was still saying he needed his space.

‘Pick your battles Hermione.’ She thought to herself.

Ron would ask her if he wanted help. The redhead was the last to turn in his potion, with barely enough time before class ended.

She heard Snape mutter a “P”, and felt badly for Ron. Ron came back to the desk and grabbed his rucksack off the floor. The end of class was signaled and he left the classroom without another word. Hermione immediately turned toward Harry.

“What on earth happened?” She asked, exasperated.

Harry sighed. “I told Molly something about Ron that I probably shouldn’t have. It’s just that she’s been so worried about Ron, and I just didn’t know how else to ease her mind Hermione.” Harry paused. “She owled him at lunch, I’m not sure what the letter said.”

Hermione nodded.

“I suppose I’ll have to find out from Ron?” She questioned.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, probably best that you do.”

He gave her a sad look and left without another word.

Hermione stood in the classroom trying to sort through her thoughts. A million thoughts went through her mind. Why had Harry looked at her like that? What was the big deal about Ron?

“Miss Granger,” Snape’s voice called. “In case you haven’t noticed everyone else has left my classroom.” He tossed his hand in an exaggerated flourish to extenuate his words. “Unless you’re planning on moving in, you should go as well.”

Hermione blushed and scrambled to grab her bag. She left the dungeons quickly and was thankful that classes were over for the day, and that she’d have a brief period of reprieve before she had to see her friends again at dinner.


	6. Chapter 6

The journey back to Gryffindor tower was tedious. Hermione had intentionally walked slowly so that Ron had ample time to get to the tower before her. She knew he needed his space and didn’t want him to think she was crowding him. Strangely enough, she didn’t see Harry on her trek back either. Perhaps he took an alternate route back to their dorms to also avoid his best friend? Hermione’s mind conjured up a million reasons as to why Ron was so upset. What could Harry have told Molly that was so egregious?

Hermione finally decided it was best to give up on guessing. As difficult as it was for her to sometimes admit, she didn’t know everything. When she finally arrived in her room she immediately collapsed on her bed.

‘So much for an uneventful year.’ She thought to herself.

It was her first day back in classes. Harry and Ron’s friendship had exploded (probably only temporality, but still), she made a complete fool of herself in front of her potion’s professor, and she had patrols to look forward to later. She internally groaned. Knowing her luck, she wouldn’t be able to sneak off to the library during her patrols. She supposed she could always go on Thursday when her class schedule was lighter.

A familiar ball of orange fluff jumped onto her bed and cuddled up beside her.

“Oh, hello Crooks. Where have you been?” She reached out a hand to pet him, and let out a surprised yelp. She hadn’t seen the cat since they arrived at the castle. She hadn’t been overly worried. Crooks survived romping around the castle during a war, she knew he was fully capable of looking out for himself. The cat/kneazle mix was absolutely covered in a pungent green slime. The smell made Hermione gag.

“Oh no, Crooks! What on earth did you get in to?”

The slime vaguely reminded her of troll snot, and Hermione had a flashback to the troll incident during her first year.

She picked up her familiar, very carefully avoiding the slime, and carried him to the Prefect’s bathroom. It took forever to work the slime out of the cat’s matted mane. When she was finally done, Crookshanks was yowling and very unappreciative of her hard work. She wasn’t able to dry the cat off fully before he took off to get into Merlin knows what. Hermione huffed and sat down on the edge of the sink. She looked into a mirror and was a frightful mess. The charm she had used on her hair was no match for the humidity in the bathroom, and she had slime stuck to various parts of her vest and shirt.

She cast a quick ‘tempus’ charm and it revealed it was very nearly time for dinner. Hermione rolled her eyes. She certainly wasn’t going to dinner looking like something Crooks had drug in from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She thought of Ron and Harry, and the explosion between them earlier. Maybe it was better she just forgot dinner all together. Her stomach rumbled at the thought. The cucumber sandwiches she shared for lunch were not very filling.

She trudged back to her room and decided that skipping dinner was the better choice. She could easily stop by the kitchens during her patrol and convince one of the house elves to whip her up something tasty. Once she was back in her room she grabbed a pair of jeans, a blouse, some underclothes, and a book and headed back to the Prefect’s bathroom. She would use this time for a much needed soak.

She quickly got undressed and slipped into the tub. She cast a charm on her book to keep it dry, and began reading. The tub filled with perfectly heated water. She put her book aside to uncork one of the bottles next to the tub. She sniffed the contents and poured it into the water. The smell of lavender and honey enveloped her. After a few minutes she was totally relaxed. Skipping dinner had been the right choice, despite what her stomach thought.

The soak went on forever and Hermione made it mostly through her book. Afraid that she was wasting too much time, she cast another ‘tempus’. The charm revealed she had roughly an hour still before she started her patrols. She decided it was better to get out of the large tub now, before she was mentally or physically unable to bring herself to do so.

She dried herself off with a large fluffy towel and used a drying charm on her hair. She got dressed quickly and mumbled the words to the charm she used to keep her curls looking nice. When she was satisfied with her appearance, she headed back to her rooms. A pit stop in the common room revealed that none of her friends were lounging about. There were a couple younger students sprawled about, but none she inherently recognized. She guessed her friends were still in the Great Hall. She was a little relieved. She knew she needed to talk to Ron, or rather make Ron talk to her, but she wasn’t sure if she had the emotional capacity to deal with it right now.

She returned her book and her dirty clothes to her room and slipped on a more comfortable pair of trainers. The girl would finish out her relaxing evening by finishing her book before starting her patrols. She grabbed her book and began reading when there was a sharp knock on her door. She tossed her book aside and sat up quickly.

“Come in!”

The door opened to reveal a much unkempt Ron Weasley. Hermione internally sighed, but offered him a warm smile. He looked rough, and it was obvious he needed a friend right now. Hermione knew this wasn’t the time to be selfish. She got up from the bed and ushered him into the room.

“Hey,” she cooed, “Are you okay?” She knew he wasn’t. “I mean, it’s obvious you’re not, but are you ready to talk about it?”

Ron sat down on the edge of her bed and began sniffling. Hermione wrapped an arm around his shoulder and quietly ‘shushed’ him.

“It’s okay, Ron. I’ve got you.” She murmured.

Ron wrapped his arms around her and began full-on sobbing.

Hermione didn’t know the last time she saw her friend so upset. Was it when his brother died?

“Oh ‘Mione!” He whined.

Hermione patted his back. “It’s okay, I’m here. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Ron let go of her and untangled himself from her grasp. He used the sleeves of his sweater to wipe his face and he sighed heavily.

“Mum wrote me.” He said. “Harry told her something that I told him in secret. I figured out of anyone I could trust Harry not to blab.”

Hermione’s brow rose. What was she; chopped liver?

“I’m sure whatever it is, that it’s not that big of a deal.” Hermione soothed. “We’ll work through it, I promise.”

Ron shook his head. “That’s the problem!”

The sudden outburst made Hermione jump. “There is no “we”, ‘Mione.”

Hermione was suddenly very confused. Where on earth was this coming from? Ron looked at her and suddenly softened his words.

“I’m so sorry ‘Mione. I love you; I do, but just not like that.” He emphasized the word ‘that’.

“What are you talking about Ron?”

He was quiet for a few moments. “I met someone.” He said quietly.

Hermione didn’t know why, but her heart sank. Shouldn’t she be relieved? After all, she was having second thoughts all summer long about their ‘relationship’.

“Harry told mum. She was worried and kept pressing on about you and me. You know how she can be.”

Ron paused to catch his breath. “Mum said I had to let you know, that it wasn’t fair to keep leading you on. She’s right. I’m so sorry ‘Mione.”

Hermione offered a small smile.

“It’s okay, Ron, really.” She was at a loss for words. What should she say? “I’m sure she’s very wonderful, whoever she is.”

Hermione was reminded of Ron and Lavender’s “relationship”. For whatever reason the news really stung.

Ron looked up at her, and for the millionth time, he took a deep breath. “He.” Was all the red head muttered.

“I’m sorry?” Hermione questioned. She had heard him perfectly fine, but she was still confused.

“He.” Ron said again. “And he is wonderful. We met at Community Quidditch while you were away at your parents.”

Ron looked to her. His expression was heartbreaking. What did he expect her to do? Shout at him? Call him names? Tell him to leave?

“Ron,” she started, “I’m truly happy for you.” She found her words were truthful. Even though the situation stung she was happy her friend was happy.

“I know that we, uh,” she gestured between them. “We never really defined what we were.”

Ron sniffled, clearly waiting for her to continue.

“We all deserve happiness after what happened.” She started again. She was trying to choose her words carefully. “You’re one of my best friends, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I love you too, Ron. I’m honestly a little relieved.” The last part wasn’t entirely the truth.

“You are?” Ron questioned, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes.” Hermione said, trying to convince herself more than anything. “After everything that happened I wasn’t sure what I wanted either. I think it’s good that we’re growing. Everyone just sort of expected that we’d end up together.” She paused again. “I’m only mildly surprised that you’re, er, um, gay?”

Ron laughed. “I’m not gay, gay Hermione.”

Hermione was more shocked at the full pronunciation of her name than anything.

“That is,” he said, “I still like girls, I think. Oliver is just wonderful and we have so much in common.”

Oliver? Oliver Wood! Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” Ron blurted out. “Neither one of us is ‘out’ yet, well save for a few people.”

Hermione nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone!” She was being fully honest. She would never dream of disrespecting Ron, but how would she explain that to people? How could she tell people that her ‘not boyfriend’ chose another man over her? Hermione banished the thought from her mind. She was being ridiculous. The logical part of her brain told her that it was wonderful Ron found someone, despite their gender. The insecure part of her brain, however, was telling her that she’d never be good enough for anyone.

Suddenly Ron enveloped her in a hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re the best ‘Mione. I was so scared of telling you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Hermione nodded. “I’m just glad you’re happy, truly. We all need someone.”

Ron beamed, and Hermione offered up a fake smile. Who was going to be her someone? Would she end up an old spinster alone with her books and a cat? She desperately hoped not.

Another knock on her door made both of them jump.

“Yes?” Hermione called.

“It’s me.” The voice called back. “Did you forget about your patrols? I just passed two seventh years making out in the dungeons.”

Hermione jumped out of her bed. She wasn’t entirely sure who “me” was, but she ventured to bet it was the other Gryffindor Prefect.

“I’m sorry Ron.” She was truly apologetic. “I don’t mean to cut you off, but I have to go.”

Ron shook his head and smiled. “It’s okay ‘Mione. Who did you piss off to have patrols on the first day?”

Hermione chuckled, and instead of offering a response she slipped on her robe and quickly headed out the door. “I’ll let you know when I find out!”

She heard Ron yell something back, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. She very suddenly needed to get away, and was once again thankful she had patrols tonight.


End file.
